


Reverberations

by Gennacyde



Category: Transformers (Bayverse), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gennacyde/pseuds/Gennacyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barricade is alone in the darkness when Blackout invades his personal space in a very intense and intimate way. Warnings: Slash, dub-con, ANGST, SMUT!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverberations

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, the notes might actually be as long as the fic, but I feel they are necessary. First of I have never written any TF smut so this is my first attempt. I was not really sure in what direction I wanted to go, so I just kind ran with whatever came to me first. Second I want to lay full blame on Antepathy because of her getting me interested in this pairing and Copterrowrf(TM Antepathy) in general. Third, while I blame Antepathy for this I feel that my take on Blackout is going in a completely different direction. In the first movie he really struck me as if they had intended for him to be Soundwave and then changed their minds later. He seems very imposing in that first scene and his method of attack and pretty much everything he does seems very Soundwaveish, so I am just running with it.

Barricade lay in the dark on his berth curled on his side. His form was still save for the slow even push and pull of air through his intakes. The only clues to his wakefulness were his doorwings. Instead of drooping relaxed, they were set straight back and so tense they vibrated slightly. The Grounder had cycled off his optics, letting the darkness around him and within in wash over him like a cold yet familiar blanket.

He had done what was asked of him. The mission was complete. The prisoner had been handed over to Soundwave mostly unharmed. Yes, it had taken him significantly longer to procure and produce said prisoner. And yes, there had been severe complications. The mission had been completed within the loosely defined parameters that had been set forth. That tentacled menace had not been specific in anything other than the target. Yet, Blackout had been sent to retrieve him anyway. He had the prisoner in hand and that Copter had swooped in and taken them both back to base.

Barricade had never intended on actually being captured and imprisoned by the Autobots. He had never worked that probability into his plans. Regardless, he had overcome all obstacles, freed himself, and managed to capture the target. Yet Soundwave had just stood there, silent, staring down with that unreadable face. Barricade shuddered as he recalled standing there, so small before Soundwave. Not offering up excuses, just standing. Blackout behind him, also completely unreadable. It was like being trapped in an emotion sandwich where both pieces of bread were nonexistent.

I did what he asked, no more, no less. I completed the mission.

Terrible thoughts rolled over Barricade as he tried to convince himself that his end was not coming so quickly. For all the silence and a face devoid of emotion, Barricade had felt the contempt rolling off of Soundwave and onto himself. He had stood there, his head held high, his optics not wavering. Yes he was smaller than most of the others. His frame was not of military spec, and his choice of fighting style was seen as backstabbing and sneaky at best. The Grounder refused to let the larger Mech intimidate him. So he stood there, waiting for punishment that never came. Soundwave had just turned his back and walked away.

...as if I was not even the smallest threat...just turned his back...

Through it all he could feel the large imposing form of the Copter behind him. Never saying a word, not making a sound. Still Barricade had felt as if his back had holes stared straight through it. His weakness was bared for all to see. Rescued by the newly recovered Copter. Not even cleared for active duty, and he was pulling Barricades aft out of a situation that the Grounder felt he had complete control over.

...didn't need saving...don't need that fragging Copter to save me...

Barricade invented sharply as he felt the tips of his clawed hands digging into his chest armor. The pain giving him something else, anything else, to focus on besides his own failings. The sharp pinpricks of sensation were almost enough to make him forget his shame, almost, but not quite. His exhalations shuddered through his vents as his claw tips dug deeper into the grill on his chest, so close to his spark chamber.

…small...worthless...pathetic...useless...weak...

The words tumbled through his processor, swirling his thoughts and emotions into one overwhelming realization of his own failures as a Mech, as a Decepticon. Comparing himself to the Copter he could see everywhere he failed and everywhere Blackout was just plain better than him. Filtering along the edges of his dark thoughts, his desire for the imposing aerial snuck in, but he squashed those thoughts before they could take form. Failure was not tolerated, and he was a failure. No Con would ever reciprocate anything towards him but contempt.

...it's over...

So Barricade lay there in the dark, waiting for the inevitable. With Megatron gone, for now at least, Soundwave had taken over where Starscream chose not to rule. His existence was barely tolerated by the larger Mech, and this particular failure was just one in a long line of mistakes Barricade felt he had made. It would not be long before Soundwave had him terminated.

...it's what I have earned...

The press of his claw tips into his chest armor stopped as he heard the warning tone of his door lock being overridden. He trusted no one, and the security he installed in his own cramped room was not duplicated anywhere else on the ship. Sudden panic raced through his circuits at the realization that someone was actually overriding his door lock.

...no...it's too soon...already?

Barricade froze all movement, even his trembling, as he heard the soft whoosh of his door opening. He waited for the swift end to come. Even if he had wanted to fight, it was too soon. He would never had been able to online his weapons in time. Instead of leaving his back to the Mech, he chose to turn over to his back, his head tilted to the door. Onlining his optics to their lowest setting he peered at the Mech that would bring forth his demise.

...let them look me in the eyes...I will see the face of Soundwaves chosen executioner...

It was only by a miracle of Primus that the Grounder was able to stifle the gasp as he looked upon the Mech I his doorway. Standing there, framed by the light of the hallway, was the one figured Barricade had not wanted to see. Though the light obscured his vision slightly, the shape of the large Copter was unmistakeable. The rotors on the aerial frames back were fanned out slightly. Combined with the halo of light surrounding the dark form, he appeared to Barricade not unlike the angel of death described by humans.

...fitting...but why him?

No sound passed between the Mechs as Barricade watched the Copter step forward into his room. He heard his door whoosh closed softly, plunging them into darkness. Offlining his optics Barricade waited, laying prone on his back. Yes there was a chance it was not Blackout, that it was one of the other Copters, but he doubted it. His invent stuttered as he felt the large heavy hands on his chest, pressing him down into his own berth. Easily and effectively holding him in place.

There was an almost inaudible click, then a low hum that almost filled the room. Then the Mech looming over Barricade, holding him in place, spoke. His voice was quiet, and yet its low tones managed to fill the small room in its entirety.

“Do you want this?”

The strange inquiry forced the small Grounder to online his optics to low light and look upon the large Mech hovering over him. His suspicions were confirmed in that moment. Looming above him, staring down with impassive features, was Blackout. Barricade could not respond to the question. He would not even begin to know how to answer. His confusion grew as he felt the tips of the Copters blunt fingers almost caress his chest and sides, yet still hold him to his berth with what seemed no effort.

The quiet click, followed by the low hum filled the room again. Blackouts voice, still quiet washed over Barricades audials. The voice was deep, commanding in a way the few others were. It seemed to vibrate and bounce off of every surface and then reverberate through the room.

“Do you want this?”

The question was repeated again. Barricade just looked up at the Copter. His four optics focused on the face of the Mech above him. He tried to keep his face as impassive as the one above him, though he felt his confusion must have some through some how. He winced as he felt his doorwings press into the berth even harder as more pressure was applied to his chest. Those same large hands holding him he knew could easily crush his spark chamber.

As if that thought alone was enough, his spark pulsed in his chest sending small vibrations outwards. His clawed hand, that he did not even realize had been balled into a tight fist, relaxed slightly. There were less painful ways to go, but there were also worse ones. His upper optics flicked to the rotor drooping closest to his hand.

...just once...I could just touch it... just this once...

The Grounder fought with himself for a few moments before his thoughts were tangled into a web of confusion again as those same large hands that were putting pressure on his chest caressed him almost gently. This time Barricade could not keep the confusion from his optics as he focused all four on Blackout's face again.

As the low hum yet again filled the room, the Aerials large thumbs moved in slow circles over the center of Barricade's chest. He could not stop himself from arching into the touch as the seams of his chest plating directly over his spark cover was teased. The low vibrations from Blackout's voice teased through his frame as he felt the larger Mech press down and lean forward. The Copter's face so close to his own, tilted, studying him, then leaning in. Directly against his sensitive audials he felt more than heard Blackout's voice.

“Do you want this?”

The deep tones changed holding a hint of something else along their edges. There was no malice in the voice, only, something Barricade could not place. His senesory net was aflame with sensation as the vibrations from the Copter's voice washed over him. The low hum continuing to fill the room.

“I need you to say it Barricade.”

The Grounder gasped as his name left the Aerial's vocalizer. His taloned hand moving almost of its own accord as the claw tips gently traced along the outer edge of the rotor he could reach. The larger Mech above him pressed down into him hard with a long low groan that prickled down Barricade's audial and straight to his spark. The rotor nearest his hand quivered under his touch. Desire washed over Barricade as he felt his spark spiral in his chest. The sounds, the sensations, were almost too much for him. He could only whisper. His voice sounding harsh when compared to the Copter's smooth tones.

“please...”

Barricade turned his head, trying to hide the shame he felt from begging for something he was not sure the Aerial was even offering. His confusion, shame, and everything else he was feeling fled from his form as pure pleasure washed over him. The low hum had slowly grown louder until it felt as if the room were filled with sound that was not quite there. Vibrations teased over his entire frame, focused on his chest and neck. Again, he felt more than heard Blackout as he spoke to him.

“Open yourself to me Grounder.”

The hands that had been pressing him to the berth moved over his chest to his shoulders. The weight of the larger Mech forced their frames flush against each other as Blackout's hands moved to either side of his head. He could feel the Copter's lip plates nipping at his neck cables, as the low hum coursed over him.

It was the sudden, almost desperate grinding of the larger Mech's frame against his own that was Barricade's undoing. Arching up against the copter he reached out and gripped the rotor he had been teasing tightly as his foot hiked somewhere to the back of the Aerial’s thigh, his toes digging in almost sharply as he tried to cling to Blackout.

Against his neck he the Copter spoke again. Somehow his voice had managed to hit tones even deeper than before. The sound shaking Barricade to his very core. A high pitched whine escaped the small Grounder's throat as he felt himself become lost to the deep tones of Blackout's voice. No longer caring what was being said, only wanting to hear and feel more.

“Open to me...for me...Barricade.”

Static burst through Barricade's vocalizer as his voice was growled by the larger Mech. His chest plates scraped against Blackout's as they opened. His spark chamber remained shut only moments before splitting open its light filling the room. Barricade gasped as Blackout growled into his neck, his own chest plates opening much quicker.

In that moment Barricade could feel the force of Blackout's concussion weapon engaging as tendrils from their sparks touched. There was a moment of fear that flashed through the Grounder's cortex until waves of pleasure so intense it was indescribable washed over him. Their sparks had barely touched and he was already hovering on the edge of release. He could hear Blackout's voice but not understand the words, he could feel the concussion weapon almost vibrating the berth apart, he could sense the immense power the large Aerial had to keep in constant check. The sensations threatened to overwhelm him and break him apart.

The overload that ripped through Barricade was like nothing he had ever experienced in his entire existence. It was pure pleasure mixed with pure pain formed into a perfect balance of sensation that surged through his entire being. If this was how it felt to die, he never wanted to live again. If this was life, he never wanted to die.

~~~***~~~

Barricade slowly onlined his optics one at a time until all four were in synch as he ran a quick systems diagnostic. His chest plates were closed and his frame was relaxed. For a moment he wondered if he had imagined everything until movement caused him to focus his vision. In the dark looming over him silently was Blackout.

Barricade fought to find something to say, but nothing in his mind seemed right, so he laid on his berth waiting for the Copter to do something other than stare down at him. Several long moments passed before Barricade began to squirm slightly under the intense gaze from the larger Mech. His lower optics flicked to the Aerial's rotors, they looked tense. For reasons unknown to him, this concerned him.

“Blackout...”

The Grounder heard the click of the Copter onlineing his vocalizer, yet this time there was no low hum accompanying it. Barricade's spark sank slightly, missing the sound and feel of that hum filling the room. While, he had heard Blackout's vocalizer click on the Copter remained silent for a few moments before Barricade heard it click off again. He watched with confusion in his optics as Blackout turned his back to the grounder and strode silently from the room, leaving Barricade alone once again in the darkness.


End file.
